If I were limited to giving just one way to get a feel for Vermont, it would be to drive Route 100. The whole thing. All the way. Three hundred miles. Top to bottom.

This two lane road runs nearly the length of the state, a distance a little short of the stateís 300 mile height. It cuts right through the center of the state, winding mostly through the valleys between the tall spines of the Green Mountains. It dips, swerves, runs a little ways, curves back and forth, rises a little, dives back down, rises back up and carries on like this the entire length. There is not one straight and level mile in it. Nor are there many stop lights. Maybe a dozen, tops. Plus maybe a handful of stop signs. I know there is one in Stowe so there are probably a few others Iím not remembering.

It runs through villages, alongside and through farms, deep inside forests, squeezes between rivers and rock cliffs, twists itself out of deep valleys and out onto high ridges. It is one of the best drives in the country, maybe the world.

Route 66 is in the Smithsonian but Route 100 is alive and well and living in Vermont.

If I could have back all the time Iíve spent touring in a car, I would spend it all doing the same thing again. I love it. In that vein, I drove the length of Route 100, from Massachusetts nearly to Canada, taking notes and photos along the way. Here is where you can find the log: